


Sunbright

by abracadora (killjoycatlady)



Series: Blindspot [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Dates, First Kiss, Insecurity, M/M, POV Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:45:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killjoycatlady/pseuds/abracadora
Summary: Lance takes Keith out on their first date, determined to woo him. He learns important things, such as: he really, really likes Keith.





	Sunbright

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I actually finished this, like, two weeks ahead of schedule. You don't /have/ to read the Blindspot before this, but it would probably provide some foundation? 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented/sent me anons on the Blindspot encouraging me to write a part two! I wouldn't have done it without you. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope it meets expectations.

Lance is a knot of wriggling anxiety when he leaves the mechanic. Hermosa is all fixed up and beautiful, as she should be, and Lance takes her for a spin around a nearby strip mall and then his old high school, just to enjoy the feeling of wind whisking through his hair and whipping over his face, just to enjoy the exhilaration of riding her again. It helps take his mind off the nervousness that still simmers in his gut and he’s almost disappointed when he arrives at his house. Almost.

It’s been months since he’s been in Miami for this long. He has been here for almost five days now, and it already feels like nothing has changed since high school. Except, when he was in high school, his older siblings were away in college. Now, during the summer, his older siblings (except the oldest, Bianca, who’s in Detroit with her newborn son) are at home and just lounging around the house, much like him, as if they never left.

Lance has missed having an (almost) full house- the dorms at college were never quite the same- and even though it isn’t as noisy as it was in his childhood, it’s family, surrounding him like a blanket, and nothing, really, makes Lance happier.

“I’m home,” he announces in Spanish as he bursts through the door and places his helmet on the floor by the console table that greets him, vaguely aware that his mamá will scold him about it later.

“‘Sup,” says his brother, Danny, who’s currently on a one-week vacation from his college in north Florida, where he’s doing his law degree. “Did the mechanic fix her up right?”

“Her” refers to his bike, Lance knows. He nods. “The mechanic was great.”

“Lovely,” Danny says absently, and goes back to watching Star Trek in his underwear.

Lance marches upstairs to his room. It hasn’t changed a bit since high school- it still has all his Star Wars posters up, and his desk is virtually untouched. He flops down over his bed and it creaks, and he detachedly thinks that he should change before lying on his bed because his shirt must be soaked with sweat by now.

His phone buzzes and instinctively, Lance’s hand flies to it (he developed a habit of checking his phone as soon as it buzzed after living for years in a household full of nosy siblings). He squints at the notification from a familiar name that flashes across the screen, and unlocks the phone.

_(2:31 p.m) Hey_

_(2:31 p.m) Saw you talking to my coworker today ;)_

**shut up hunk (2:32 p.m)**

**wasnt a big deal (2:32 p.m)**

_(2:32 p.m) yea it is_

_(2:32 p.m) Wanna know how I know? Because its not cuz you’re enamoured with someone, that’s pretty typical_

**fight me? (2:33 p.m)**

_(2:33 p.m) He hasn’t stopped blushing pink since u left_

**RLLY (2:33 p.m)**

_(2:33 p.m) Told you it was a big deal_

**shut?? up?? (2:34 p.m)**

**he hasnt even texted me yet (2:34 p.m)**

_(2:34 p.m) YOU GOT HIS NUMBER?_

**to be technical i gave him my number (2:34 p.m)**

_(2:35 p.m) OMG_

_(2:35 p.m) I CANT BELIEVE_

_(2:35 p.m) Well I can but_

**he might not even text me? (2:36 p.m)**

_(2: 36 p.m) He will_

_(2:36 p.m) I gtg make fun of him and also get back to work_

**i hate you (2:37 p.m)**

**go get that money hunk (2:37 p.m)**

_(2:38 p.m) nah u love me_

_(2:38 p.m) thanks_

Lance allows his phone to tumble out of his hands and onto his bed and he sighs impatiently. Slight anxiety gnaws at his stomach; he worries that he won’t receive a text from that cute mechanic, and if he didn’t, well… it’d be a hurt to his pride, at least.

His sister- two years older than him, a biology major yells at him from downstairs, in her way of calling for him. He responds (“ _Dime, Elena!”)_ and hefts himself out of the bed, practically ready to perform his younger brotherly duties that meant doing something for her that she could have, quite easily, done herself. It’s frustrating, of course it is, but at his college dorm, just some times, he misses it, because  he misses his family and misses being the youngest in the house (although not always), so he leaves his room and only pretends to argue with her when she tells him to go get icecream from the supermarket for her.

 

**

 

When he returns from the supermarket, his older brother Luis (three years older than Lance, art major) ropes him into a game of Monopoly. Lance isn’t necessarily the biggest fan of Monopoly but he is a big fan of winning, so he allows himself to be dragged into a two hour game in which familial bonds are almost severed. Lance wins in the end, though, so it hardly matters that it took a good chunk of time out of his day. Then, immediately after, his mother calls them all for dinner, and she’s made _ropa vieja,_ which is Lance’s favourite, so he doesn’t argue. They sit around the dinner table and laugh and talk and miss Bianca, and Lance forgets that he ever had any worries that day.

It’s only when he leaves to flop onto his bed upstairs that he realizes that he left his phone unattended for practically the whole time. He grabs it, and when he turns it on, there are three notifications from an unknown number flashing across the screen.

(5:48 p.m) Hi 

(5:48 p.m) I just got off from work so

(5:48 p.m) you said I should text you?

Lance’s stomach drops, whether from excitement or guilt from not texting back, he doesn’t know. He hopes that Keith isn’t one of those who get petty over someone not replying quickly.

**hey omg im sorry i was doing shit with family wow i didn’t mean to ignore ur texts (7:11 p.m)**

Almost immediately, an answer comes, which makes Lance feel almost worse.

(7:12 p.m) no problem

(7:12 p.m) um

They aren’t even speaking face to face and it’s getting awkward. Lance decides that he needs to remedy the situation before they decide to never speak to each other again

**So you never told me your name you know (7:13 p.m)**

(7:13 p.m) yea

(7:13 p.m) when you left you called me “mullet”

**Not my fault that you have one :/ (7:14 p.m)**

Lance desperately hopes that this guy can sense his joking tone through text.

**(I was joking btw) (7:15 p.m)**

(7:15 p.m) I suspected that but thanks for the clarification

**So (7:16 p.m)**

**you gonna tell me your name or leave me to guess? (7:16 p.m)**

(7:17 p.m) should I just make you guess?

**Guess I’ll call you “mullet” for the rest of time (7:17 p.m)**

(7:18 p.m) lmao

(7:18 p.m) im keith

**Hey keith im lance (7:18 pm)**

(7: 19 p.m) im aware

Lance quickly drops the phone and smacks his hands over his face, trying to push down the mortification. _That’s right,_ he remembers, _Keith got my name at the mechanic._

_Keith._ Having a name to put to the face makes the corner of Lance mouth curl up. He weighs the name in his mind and then speaks out loud. “Keith.” He decides that he likes it, and that somehow it seems fitting.

His phone pings and Lance quickly snatches it up, remembering that there was a conversation going on.

(7:21 p.m) Lance?

(7:21 p.m) ???

**Sorry sorry sorry (7:21 p.m)**

**Got distracted im back now (7:22 p.m)**

(7:22 p.m) ok

**So (7: 22 p.m)**

**Not to be bold or assumptious or anything but (7:23 p.m)**

**I did give u my number hoping that we’d be able to (7:23 p.m)**

**Idk (7:23 p.m)**

**Meet up sometime? (7:23 p.m)**

(7:24 p.m) like

**As a date alskdjlaslfs (7:24 p.m)**

**If,, you want (7:24 p.m)**

(7:25 p.m) yea that would be nice :)

(7:25 p.m) you said…something about a bakery?

**Ajdlfadfjsk yea my aunt’s bakery (7:26 p.m)**

**It’s super good if u, yknow, wanted to go (7:26 p.m)**

(7:27 p.m) sure

(7: 27 p.m) on one condition

**??? (7:28 p.m)**

(7:28 p.m) you take me on that bike you have

**DEFINITELY (7:29 p.m)**

**when (7:29 p.m)**

(7:30 p.m) Sunday works for me

**Is around 5:30 ok? (7:30 p.m)**

(7:31 p.m) yea

**cool cool cool (7:31 p.m)**

**tbh im excited (7:32 p.m)**

(7:32 p.m) me too :)

**  


Lance has to wait a whole two days until he can meet Keith again, and the wait makes Lance squirm with impatience. He can’t explain _why_ exactly he’s so especially excited to go out with him, and the only explanation Lance can come up with is that it’s been months since he could properly go out with someone.

Hunk comes over on Sunday after Lance’s family comes back from church. By this time, Lance’s heart has already begun to pound, and his stomach writhes with barely contained nerves.

 “I don’t get why you’re so nervous,” Hunk says, lounging on Lance’s bed while tinkering with a ballpoint pen. The back of the pen springs out of the cylinder and hits the wall, and falls behind Lance’s dresser. Hunk frowns at the direction it fell but makes no moves to go get it.

“Stop destroying my stationary,” Lance protests, “And I don’t know. I haven’t dated in a while.”

“Hasn’t it just been like four months since you went out with that Laura girl?”

“Yeah,” Lance answers testily, “Four months since we went out for a week and then she dumped me for some white jock.”

Hunk remains silent at that, and Lance shudders to think how much pity Hunk must feel for him to not have some smartass comeback ready to go.

“What do I wear?” Lance asks, and holds up two shirts: one that’s plain, indigo blue, and another one of a similar colour with a lightning bolt flashing across the front.

“Lightning bolt,” Hunk answers with hardly a glance up. “Though it doesn’t make a difference, Lance, I have faith in your wooing skills.”

“Well, _I_ don’t.”

“Either way,” Hunk continues after clucking his tongue. “Keith isn’t that hard to please. Just be yourself.”

Lance stares at Hunk, scandalized. “I don’t want Keith to like me just because he has no standards!”

“No, Keith’s standards are pretty high. I don’t think he likes people that often. It’s just that once he likes someone, he’s not hard to please.”

“That barely makes sense.”

“Once you work with Keith for like, a year, you learn that he’s a special guy.”

Lance settles for wearing the lightning bolt shirt with his favourite leather jacket and a pair of black jeans that make his legs look amazing. He settles on just wearing a pair of hoops and black studs in his ears, going for a less flashy look today.

“Are you leaving now?” Hunk asks, running his eyes over Lance’s outfit and humming approvingly.

“Yeah,” Lance answers, and attempts to keep the taint of nervousness out of his voice. “Are you staying?”

“I’ll help your mom with dinner,” Hunk tells him easily. “And pester your dad about his job while hoping he doesn’t hate me forever for being nosy.”

Lance snorts. “My dad would have payed to have a child as interested in engineering as you.”

“I’d make a great fifth McClain child,” Hunk says with a cheeky grin. “Off you go, young sprite, to your beloved.”

“Oh my god, do not ever say that again,” Lance groans. “If Elena bosses you around feel free to tell her no.”

“Elena doesn’t boss me around, don’t project your sibling troubles onto me.”

“Whatever.” Lance gives himself a once-over in the mirror and takes a deep breath. He stares into his own dark eyes and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. "What if he doesn't like me?" he asks, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of his voice.

Hunk turns to him, facing him properly, and his face is serious, eyebrows dark and linear over his sincere eyes. "Lance. I promise you that he'll like you. And if, if he doesn't, well." Hunk shrugs and smiles lightly. "His loss."

Lance sighs and tugs at a stray bang on his forehead. "Thanks, buddy. Wish me luck.”

“You won’t need it,” Hunk says sagely. “But, luck.” Lance gives him a fleeting grin before practically dashing out the door and down the stairs.

“I’m stepping out for a few hours,” Lance calls to the open-eared house.

“Where are you going?” Luis pops his head out of the bathroom- that dude shows up out of nowhere, Lance swears- and gives him a look like a hawk scouting its prey.

“Just to a friend’s,” Lance answers casually, because he doesn’t need his family being too up in his business, and even though he’s out, he hasn’t really mentioned dating a boy to them and doesn’t want to unless it’s serious. Which it might not even be, with Keith, so.

“Don’t stay out too late,” his mother says, her voice floating down from an upstairs room. Nobody questions the fact that Hunk’s staying behind- they’re comfortable enough with his presence that he is, in essence, the fifth McClain child.

“Okay!” He steps out of the house and heads toward his bike with his helmet under his arm. He takes an admiring glance at Hermosa and then a peek at the address Keith had texted him a few hours ago. He didn’t live too far from here- just on the other side of Lance’s old high school.

Lance straddles his bike and the engine rumbles on. He grins down at the machine and revs it up, reveling in the roar that in produces, and then pulls out of his driveway and down the street.

 

**

 

Keith lives in a neighborhood with smaller, one-story houses, and lawns separated by wired fencing instead of emerald bushes. When Lance pulls up to the curb, Keith is already on his porch, and he runs down the concrete pathway as Lance parks. Three feet away from Lance, Keith slows down, as if becoming self-conscious of his eager approach.

“Hey,” Keith says casually.

“’Sup,” Lance answers back just as easily, which might seem genuine if not for the fact that his leg is bouncing up and down like an overexcited bunny and Lance only does that when he’s nervous. Keith doesn’t seem to notice, though, and his lips curve up into a half-smile that makes Lance grin right back at him.

“I didn’t know you’d be waiting outside,” Lance says quirking up an eyebrow. “I should pick you up like a gentleman.”

“I couldn’t risk my brother opening the door or, like, seeing you.” Keith’s eyes slide back to his house. “Speaking of which, we should go before he starts peeking out the curtains.”

“You told him?” Lance asks as he slides off the bike to get the spare helmet from the compartment underneath the passenger seat.

“No,” Keith answers with honesty, “But I never go out, so he’s suspicious.”

“Is this the same brother that’s getting a PhD?”

“That’s the one,” Keith says dryly. Lance hands him the helmet and Keith slips it on with ease. Lance goes back to sit on his bike and pats the passenger seat invitingly.

Keith’s eyes squint at the seat as if he’s suspicious of it, and Lance is about to ask before Keith goes to sit on it. Then he seats, with his arms rested stiffly on his thighs, and Lance realizes that he needs to ask Keith to hold onto him if they’re to drive without Keith flying off.

“Uh, Keith?” he asks awkwardly. “You’re going to need to hold on.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “Okay.” A moment later, Keith’s slip around his waist and hold firmly against his stomach, and Lance does his best to ignore the way Keith’s warmth presses against his back.

He clears his throat. “Ready?”

“Definitely,” Keith answers, and Lance can hear the note of excitement in his voice that could be from anticipation of the date or the bike ride. Either way, the hairs on the back of Lance’s beck prick.

He kicks the stand of the bike up and the engine growls to life, and with a flick of Lance’s wrist against the handlebars, they slide away from the curb and zip down the road.

He hears Keith let out an exhilarated exhale against Lance’s ear and Lance shivers, whether from the feeling of Keith’s warm breath against his skin or the feeling of wind whipping against his arms, he doesn’t know. He grins and urges the bike along faster.

They reach the bakery all too soon, and when Lance gets off the bike, he feels adrenaline thrum through his veins. He turns to Keith, who slides off the bike with ease, much to Lance’s surprise.

“Enjoyed it?” Lance asks, smirking, because if there’s one thing he takes pride in, it’s Hermosa.

“It was awesome,” Keith answers, and Lance doesn’t know Keith well but he swears there are stars in his eyes.

“I can’t argue.” Lance gestured towards the bakery- a small shop in the corner of a strip mall, with a flickering neon sign that said “ _Camila’s Bakery”_ and a worn flag of Cuba draped against the upper corner of the front window. “This is the place.”

Keith peers at it. “I’ve driven by here a few times. Should we go inside?”

“Yeah.” Lance wonders why his tongue feels like it’s about three times too big for his mouth. He takes the lead and Keith follows him onto the sidewalk and into the bakery. Lance hopes to himself that his cousin doesn’t work here on Sundays, because if so, then she would tell her mother that Lance was here _on a date,_ and her mother would tell Lance’s mother, and Lance’s mother is kind of the family gossip (part of the reason why she and Hunk get along so well) and she would probably end up telling everyone, and well. Lance doesn’t want everyone knowing about Keith, because if something goes horribly wrong with him, Lance doesn’t want to have to tell everyone.

“Where do we sit?” Keith asks, snapping Lance out of his reverie.

“Let’s order first,” Lance says. “Anything you want?”

“Nothing specific,” Keith says, and his eyes flicker around the restaurant as if he’s assessing everything inside of it. “You can order for us, I’ll put my trust in you.”

Lance smirks and mock-salutes Keith. “Yes, sir.”

He goes to order (thankfully, his cousin is not working, so he can elude the family gossip for a while more) and orders his favourite foods, hoping that Keith will like them.

He lingers by the counter until the food is given to him and he takes it back to the table. A flutter grows in his stomach, filling his veins with a sort of nervous heat. He feels the warmth of the food on the tray, each type of pastry put into a parchment bag with the aroma drifting out and dancing across Lance’s senses.

A smile flickers onto Keith’s face when Lance slides the tray onto the table and Lance swears his stomach _flips_.

“It smells good,” Keith remarks.

“Yeah,” Lance says, and feels a flush of pride for his aunt, who he remembers talking about starting a bakery like this ever since Lance was about five. “Try something.”

“Sure,” Keith says easily. “What should I try?”

Lance considers for a moment, and then pushes one of the bags towards Keith. “I don’t know if you’re in the mood for something sweet first, but well- these are pastelitos de guayaba. I mentioned them before-”

“I remember,” Keith interjects, and Lance wonders if he’s imagining the faint pink powdering Keith’s cheeks.

Lance clears his throat. “Yeah, well. They’re my favourite in this store. Try it.”

Keith picks one up and gives it a look- not skeptical, at least, Lance hopes not, but more thoughtful- and Lance wonders if Keith is one of those people who thoroughly analyze their food before consumption. Usually, Lance can’t stand that, but on Keith, it’s almost endearing, and Lance watches him as he takes a bit out of the corner of the pastry and chew thoughtfully.

“It’s good,” he says after a moment.

“You barely ate more than the crust!” Lance argues, and then his mouth clamps shut when he realizes that maybe his tone of voice is the wrong one to use when speaking the tenth sentence he’s ever said to Keith.

But the corner of Keith’s mouth quirks up, and he takes a more confident bite, chewing with vigor, and then says with a teasing sparkle in his eyes, “It’s good.”

Lance grins. “Of course it is. McClain family recipes.”

Keith lets out a half laugh that makes Lance’s intestines twist in a strangely pleasant way. “Really? Can all of you cook so well?”

“Yep,” Lance says proudly. “My mother, oh my God, you should taste what she makes, it’s heaven on Earth. And me and my siblings aren’t too bad either. I can cook myself a good meal when I’m away at college.”

“Are you out of state for college?” Keith asks.

“Nope. But I got a full ride into FIT.” Lance can’t keep the satisfaction out of his voice. He doesn’t particularly care if he sounds rude, not about this- he worked his ass off for that scholarship and it’s probably the pride of his life. “They have a great aeronautics program.”

Keith’s eyebrows raise, and he looks interested, or at least, Lance hopes he is. “Cool. But, wait,  you’re Hunk’s friend, and he doesn’t go to…”

Lance waves his hand airily. “Hunk and I have been friends since I was nine. Little thing like college isn’t going to separate us.” Lance leans forward and says conspiratorially, “Plus, I’m trying to convince him to transfer over there.”

“You’re studying aeronautics?”

“Can’t imagine myself doing anything else,” Lance confirms. “What about you? What are you studying?”

Keith’s gaze drops to the table, and instantly Lance feels a hot flash of panic. “I don’t…I’m not in college. I just work at the mechanic.”

“Oh.” Lance’s stomach burns in shame. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“No, it’s okay.” Keith half-smiles, but his eyes are still guarded and Lance wants to travel back in time to five minutes ago and redo everything. “Really, it’s not a big deal. College just isn’t for me.”

“I, well,” Lance says awkwardly, eager to recover the damage he caused. “You’re clearly very good your job. Lucky me, to be honest.”

“Thanks,” Keith says, and wow, did he just blush?

Lance gives him a small smile and then attempts to shift the conversation away from college and school. “So, you’re saving up for a bike?”

“Yes.” And Lance can see the way Keith’s eyes brighten at the mention of it, the way he leans forward with his elbows against his table. “It’s a hassle having to walk to work every morning, but my mom said that I could. Once I pass my driving test and then get a motorcycle license.”

Lance’s mouth falls open. “You can’t _drive_?”

Spots of red appear on Keith’s cheeks. “No. Well, I know how to, but I failed my first two driver tests and didn’t bother to take it again.”

“Dude,” Lance says, trying not to sound like he was laughing at Keith but unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. “Why?”

Keith shrugs but a faint grin grows on his face. “Reckless driving, apparently.”

“Oh my God.” Lance snorts out laughter. “That test is cake!”

“In my defense,” Keith says, “My brother taught me.”

“Your brother sounds awesome,” Lance says, because all he knows is that the dude is getting a PhD and taught Keith how to drive and that, in Lance’s humble opinion, warrants awe.

“He is.” If Lance thought Keith looked happy talking about motorbikes then it was nothing compared to Keith’s expression talking about his brother. It made Lance’s stomach erupt with butterflies. “He taught me everything I know.”

“What’s his name?”

“Takashi Shirogane. But we all call him Shiro.”

Lance’s jaw drops for the nth time today. “No way. You’re related to him?”

“Uh…”

“He was a legend at my college, way before I got in,” Lance tells Keith, wondering why he doesn’t know any of this. “But he transferred out for unexplained reasons.”

Keith’s eyes widen in what looks to be realization. “Oh, yeah, that- oh. He doesn’t really like to talk about when he was at your college.”

Lance almost desperately wants to ask why, but he knows that it’s probably something personal, and he’s polite enough to know not to ask someone such intimate questions on the first date. So, he tries to change the subject. “Well, at least I know your last name now.”

Keith, who was taking a bite of pastry, chokes, and his fist slams down on the table before he swallows his bite down and looks back at Lance with watery eyes.

Lance feels foreboding throb in his gut.

“Um,” Keith says.

“What?” Lance asks tentatively.

Keith’s expression is shuttered, and Lance’s stomach twists painfully as he questions where he went wrong, what did he say-

“My last name is Kogane.” The way Keith says this, so carefully and delicately, Lance knows that this is something important.

“Oh,” Lance says weakly.

They don’t say anything for a few beats, but they can’t seem to tear their gazes away from each other.

“Should…can I ask why?” Lance keeps his voice steady but gentle, because he has a feeling, he just _knows_ , that if he gets this wrong, Keith will disappear forever.

Keith’s shoulders draw together by just a fraction of an inch, but Lance notes the movement and it makes him feel like someone punched him in the gut. He didn’t know when he started getting such intense feelings for someone he barely knew.

“He…his family adopted me, when I was a kid,” Keith says after a pause. His eyes are now glued to the pastelito in front of him. It’s clear to Lance, from Keith’s stiff tone, that that’s all he’s going to say on the subject.

And Lance stares at Keith, because Keith doesn’t come across as someone who would easily open up, being so reserved with his smiles and movement, and yet here he is, in front of Lance, being so vulnerable, and Lance doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this trust.

Lance reaches out slowly, and slides his hand over the one Keith has lying on the tabletop. He doesn’t miss Keith’s almost imperceptible flinch, but Keith’s eyes move up towards his face, and Lance gives him a small smile.

“That was good of them. I can tell that you care a lot about your family,” Lance says, hoping that his voice sounds reassuring. “Thanks for telling me.”

If Lance wasn’t watching him to carefully, he would have thought that he imagined the way Keith’s shoulders relaxed at his words. Lance’s heart aches.

“I- yeah.” Keith doesn’t smile, but his eyes soften, and he glances out of the window, the green grass creating a striking reflection in Keith’s violet eyes.

They sat in silence, as Lance resists the urge to shake his leg or tap his fingers against the table. He doesn’t let go of Keith’s hand.

Finally, Keith clears his throat. “Sorry, if I made things awkward.”

Instantly, Lance perks up, and he smiles widely. “No, you didn’t, don’t worry, dude. Family can be complicated, y’know? My own family is huge, I can barely keep up with all of their names…”

Lance, in an effort to bring their date back onto a path they’re both comfortable with talking about, starts to tell Keith about his own family: his oldest sister Bianca and his new nephew, Javier, his hilarious Tío Raymón and the way he entertained the kids during family reunions. And Keith _listens,_ listens with his full body, leaning forward and humming at the right moments and asking questions and quietly _laughing_ , holy shit, Lance knows that it wouldn’t be long before he was completely gone for this guy.

Then, they’re exchanging stories about their friends- namely Hunk, their only mutual friend- and Lance’s heart flutters every time Keith so much as smiles.

He’s just getting through an anecdote of when he almost stole Hunk’s new pup as an eight year old when his eyes slide towards the clock on the wall and realizes that it’s been more than an hour and a half since they’ve arrived here. The person working behind the counter casts him a dirty glance, in an attempt to will Lance and Keith away.

“I think the cashier’s been glaring at us for the past half hour,” he tells Keith in a low voice, smiling.

“Well, we have been here for a while,” Keith answers. “Maybe we should…”

“Yeah,” Lance agrees. They stand up and start to gather the trash that litters the table; Lance grabs the bundle of napkins and bags, which are now all empty, and dump them into the trash.

When they step outside, they hover around Lance’s bike. Lance fiddles with the keychain in his pocket, then looks up at Keith and smiles. “I had fun.”

Keith’s eyebrows jump up by a fraction of a centimeter, and he almost looks surprised. Then, Lance’s smile is reciprocated, and Keith says, "Me, too. You're...fun to talk to."

Lance probably blushes more than the situation warrants, but he would be the first to admit (only to himself) that's he's head-over-heels in like with this guy. He doesn't say anything right away because all he could probably produce is mere spluttering sounds, but when he composes himself, he says, "Thanks."

They fidget some more and Lance keeps his eyes on the dashboard of his bike. It's awkward, but he can't say it's not nice, the way that the breeze cards through Keith's almost unnaturally black hair and the way his pupils dilate but his eyes brighten in the still-bright evening sun. 

_You're brave,_ he tells himself firmly,  _You don't fear asking questions because you don't hold yourself down by your own worries._

 "Do you want," he starts, and curses internally when his voice comes out hesitant. "To come with me to the park?"

Keith blinks up, and his surprise shows obviously, this time. Lance tries not to shrink back, because he may have years of asking-someone-out experience and multiple holes in each ear, damnit, but it doesn't make rejection any easier on his heart or ego. 

"It's okay if you don't want to," Lance says, forcing ease into his voice. "I just thought-"

"Sure," Keith interrupts. "Sounds fun."

Lance grins widely, tossing Keith the spare helmet and sliding onto the bike. He motions for Keith to get on, and before he takes off, he prays to whoever's out there that Keith doesn't notice the way his heart thumps against his ribs at the feel of Keith's firm arms around his midsection. 

Keith's laugh rips through the air as Lance speeds up, the engine of the bike growling passionately every time Lance pumps the accelerator. They zip down the road, curve left, and then careen through a right turn until Lance reaches a large, rather old park that's surrounded by grayed sidewalks and metal fencing. The park is sort of a precious place for Lance- his earliest memory is right here, where he attended his brother's baseball game when he was four. He joined his junior soccer team here, he learned to skateboard here, he went on his first sort-of date here (although that memory is more awkward than anything). 

During the daytime, it's full of teenagers loitering and children roughhousing, but it's too late in the day during summer vacation, and completely empty save for a few distant joggers in bright sportswear. 

"I used to come here a lot when I lived here," Lance says casually, to fill up the silence between them. It's not an uncomfortable silence, not by a long shot, but Lance thrives on social interaction and has never wanted to go without speaking for too long. "It was really close to my school and, I don't know. It was comforting? A good place to relax."

Keith gives him a skeptical look. "I can't imagine how a park is relaxing. Aren't there a lot of people?"

"Hm. You strike me as the type of guy who doesn't go to parks." Lance grins and nudges Keith playfully with his elbow. 

Keith nudges back. "You don't seem like the type of guy who does."

Lance laughs. "I can see how you'd think that. I didn't have this whole aesthetic as a high-schooler, I wouldn't be allowed to even if I wanted it. My dad didn't let me get more than my first set of ear piercings, I had to wait until college for those."

"They look good." And then Keith's face contorts into an unreadable expression, maybe something like embarrassment, as if he hadn't expected that he'd say that. 

Lance winks at him. "Thank you."

Keith rolls his eyes, but a fond smile plays at his lips. 

Warm butterflies erupt in Lance stomach, but he's saved from his turn of saying something embarrassing when his eye catches a glimpse of a familiar spot. 

"Hey, let's find somewhere to sit. It's too hot to just wander around."

"Sure." Keith stuffs his hands in his pockets (how, Lance has no idea, Keith's pants look pretty tight, and-  _no_ , Lance scolds himself,  _do not continue thinking in that direction_ ). "It's feels way too hot for a normal summer."

"Honestly?" Lance snorts, "I'm used to it, but you're right." He refrains from saying, " _Maybe it's 'cause I'm here”_ _because_ he's old enough to know that it doesn't actually sound smooth. 

Lance is aware that there are bleachers where they could easily find a seat, but he's a man who pursues adventure, and also the metal is scalding hot at this point and will probably burn through his jeans. Instead, he leads Keith to a tree, branches spidering out from the trunk with thick leaves that block out the sunrays. The last time he sat under his tree, his family was picnicking with his cousins, and he was sixteen years old. Their dog, Sorbet (the name was Danny's idea) was still alive. 

Lance pushes away the past-pet sadness. He's here to woo his romantic interest, not mourn. 

Lance's like of Keith doubles when Keith flops down between the roots of the tree, not even giving the ground a second glance, like some sort of rugged badass. Lance has more reservations, and carefully assesses the ground to make sure there aren't any ants before balancing himself on the widest root available. 

"Isn't this lovely?" he asks. 

Keith glances around, and their eyes meet and Lance's stomach does not do an acrobatic flip. "Yeah."

His smile is like one of those pristine feathers Lance sometimes finds in his backyard, or one of those perfectly spherical dandelions that end up dancing in the wind. Lance wonders when he started waxing poetic about people's facial expressions. 

"You're right," Keith says suddenly, and Lance raises his eyebrows. 

"About what?"

"It's relaxing." Keith leans back and his back curves against the tree trunk. "When there aren't so many people."

Lance hums and stretches against the bark languidly, bringing up a hand to scratch behind his neck. "Yeah. I used to come here to think and sort out my thoughts, 'cause my house was always too full to really get some privacy. It's almost weird, y'know, because this place is usually full of strangers, but they're all caught up in their own world and don't pay any attention to you. Everyone's in their own little world, here."

Keith frowns, like he's trying to understand how Lance found this place to be private. Lance can understand the confusion, because he honestly can't explain the feeling so well. "What did you think about?" Keith asks. 

Lance looks away, wondering how he's meant to answer that question. It was a variety of things, truth be told, but Lance knows that would be a vague and likely frustrating answer. 

When Lance doesn't answer for more than two second, Keith backtracks. "Wait, shit, that was a personal question, wasn't it. I didn't realize-"

"Hey, it's cool," he answers with a smile, and Keith's jaw clicks shut. "It's not that big of a deal, honestly. All my older siblings are really great, so as a teenager I kind of kept comparing myself to them and thought that I needed to do even better to get noticed. Which kind of led to me feeling inadequate and freaked out a lot of the time, so I'd come here to sort myself out."

"Oh," Keith says, and he's clearly out of his element here. "That..."

"It's okay now," Lance continues, because he will be damned if he isn't going to give a happy ending to this story. "Remember how I said I adopted this look in college? It helped with my self-esteem and stuff." He grins at Keith impishly. "The ladies love a bad boy."

Keith lets out a laugh full of disbelief, which Lance would almost be offended at if the sound didn't make his heart  _sing_. "Bad boy? Really? You don't seem very bad."

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not."

Keith shrugs, and his eyes dance with mirth. "Take it however you want. What, do you go around school with pins that say 'fuck the system'? What makes you such a bad boy?"

"I- what-" Lance jabs a finger into Keith's chest. "I can't believe you're doubting my reputation."

"Or did you fistfight a jock?"

"Excuse you, that- no! That is not what it means to be  _punk_!"

Keith bursts out into laughter, and a second later, Lance joins him. He's not entirely sure what's so funny, but he's sitting underneath a tree with this amazing guy and they're exchanging easy banter and he feels wholly content, happiness radiating out of every bone in his body. 

They fall into light conversation again, exchanging anecdotes and tiny facts from their lives that don't really carry any weight, but Lance files all of Keith's away all the same. He makes sure to remember that Keith's mom has the "coolest tattoo ever" of a swan on her back, and that Keith's favourite breed of dog is the poodle, and that Keith hates maraschino cherries with every fiber in his body. 

And he tells Keith things, too. Lance considers himself to be an open, honest person, but he doesn't usually allow himself to just dump random facts about himself onto his conversation partner. But Keith looks genuinely interested when Lance tells him about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cake he got in fifth grade (his favourite was Leonardo), or the way Bianca's son gurgles when he smiles, or the way that Lance threw a paper ball into the trash can from all the way across the classroom and became a class legend for about five minutes. 

Lance likes talking to Keith. He  _like-likes_  talking to Keith. 

Keith's explaining how he got his job at the mechanic (a story involving a guy named Rolo owing him a favour and Keith needing money to go visit his brother, it's quite heartwarming) when he trails off, and asks, "What?"

Lance realizes that he's maybe been staring for the past few minutes. He blinks, hard, and then jolts away. "Sorry. Got distracted. Continue?" 

Keith tilts his head a few degrees to the side, wow, that was  _adorable._ "You okay?" Pink dusts his cheeks and Lance is struck by a sudden urge to reach out and brush a lock of black hair out of his eyes. 

"Of course," Lance says and makes a "go on" gesture. 

Keith blinks at him for a few more moments, looking a bit hesitant, and before he opens his mouth to continue his story, Lance speaks again.

"Do you think we'll continue this?"

Keith's eyebrows draw together and his eyes darken with confusion. "This?"

"Yeah, you know, like-" Lance gestures between them. "This? I don't know. Do you want to continue hanging out?"

"Like, today?" Keith frowns. 

Lance refrains from making a frustrated noise, because he suddenly feels incapable of crafting words in any language known to mankind. "No, like. In the future. Go on more dates?" He hopes that he's imagining the warmth creeping up his neck.

"I- yeah? Why wouldn't we?" Now Keith's starting to look concerned, and Lance wants to crawl in a hole and scream. 

His shoulders hunch forward and he drags his gaze away from Keith, not willing to look him in the eye for the fear that he'll appear to vulnerable. He doesn't know what's taken over him, but it feels strange and antsy and he doesn't like it. 

"I don't know," Lance mumbles, "I just. I've been pretty worried that you won't like me. So I just want to know if you do. Like me. Enough to go out with me again."

"Is this you asking me out on a second date?" Keith leans forward, almost imperceptibly, and Lance doesn't back away. "Because if it is then I'd say yes. I mean, I-" He breaks off, and his blush grows darker. "I do like you."

"I like you, too," Lance offers. It's pretty counterproductive because Keith turns redder and he looks away quickly, his gaze focused on a small rock that rests on the sidewalk. 

"Oh."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Now's Lance's turn to be confused. 

Keith's nose wrinkles as if he finds the conversation distasteful. Lance can't bring himself to disagree, because if his heart wasn't beating so strongly in his throat then he would have found this whole talk unbearably awkward. 

"I didn't know what to expect," he admits, "I haven't been on a date before."

Lance doesn't say how he thinks that Keith should have been asked on a million dates before, just based on his looks alone, because after spending about three hours doing nothing but talk to Keith, he knows that Keith has probably never been that approachable. Which is bizarre, really, because when Lance looks at Keith he sees small, curling smiles and full, glowing laughter and a bunch of other sappy things that Lance doesn't have the time or concentration to compile into a list. 

So he does something that he does have the ability to do, because the sunlight sends dapples patches of light through the leaves that illuminate Keith's face and they're already leaning towards each other and Keith looks sheepish and his eyes look soft and-

Lance kisses him. 

His eyes flutter shut and his lips press cautiously against Keith's, with just the slightest amount of pressure. Keith's entire being freezes, and a half-second later he's jumping back, almost knocking his shoulder against the tree trunk. 

Lance backtracks so quickly that it gives him whiplash. 

"Fuck, shit, I'm sorry-"

"No, don't apologize- I just didn't-"

"I should have asked, I wasn't thinking-"

"I didn't mean to jump-"

 "Sorry if that was too forwarad-"

Keith's eyes are wide and Lance wants to grab a fistful of dirt and shove it in his own mouth for being so stupid. He ruined a perfectly good thing, didn't he, because he was too eager and he misread Keith and now Keith's going to hate him.

" _Lance_ ," Keith says in a rough voice. "Hey, you're freaking out."

Lance wonders if it's that visible. 

"I didn't mean to- fuck," Keith curses, and he scoots closer. His hands come up to cup Lance's face, except they never touch him, because he hesitates halfway through. "Lance, you just surprised me. It's not that I didn't-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just, you looked so pretty and the angle was perfect and you were so flustered and I know that I-"

" _Lance!"_  Keith exclaims, grabbing the front of Lance's jacket; his face is flushed with colour. Lance's mouth snaps shut and his eyes travel to Keith's hand, clutching his collar. "Try again."

"What?" Lance stares at Keith, uncomprehending. 

Keith sighs, and his voice is layered with an almost  _fond_  exasperation when he says, "Try. Again."

So Lance pulls Keith closer and kisses him, and this time, he swears that rainbows burst forth from the Earth. 

 

**

 

Lance takes the long route back when he drops Keith off at home, and if Keith notices, he doesn't complain.

He pulls up to the curb, and instantly misses the pressure of Keith's arms around him when Keith slides off the bike. Lance follows after him, and they just stand there, not really looking at each other, not really looking at anything else.

Then, Keith speaks up. "I had fun today."

Lance gives him a crooked smile. "I'd hope so. I wouldn't want to make a disappointing date."

"You were far from that." And the wide, genuine smile Keith gives him makes sunshine erupt in Lance's stomach.

"So," Lance says, struggling not to sound shy because for some reason, around this one person, he is. "I'll see you again?"

"I'd hope so," Keith echoes. Lance laughs.

"I'll text you to make plans soon, hopefully."

"Text me when you get home," Keith corrects, and it's such a small, insignificant thing, but it makes Lance blush wildly.

_And here I thought I had myself under control_ , he thinks weakly, but he isn't really upset.

"For sure," Lance agrees. Keith watches him carefully, Lance notices, and then notices how the orange sun illuminates Keith’s eyes, almost making them glow red. In a split-second decision, he leans forward and presses a light kiss to Keith's lips.

Keith turns pink. "I really hope my brother has not been peeking through the curtains," he says after fumbling with his words.

Lance grins. "Siblings are nosy like that." Apparently even Takashi Shirogane, one of Lance's school’s ex-legends. isn't exempted from that. "Bye, Keith. See ya."

"Bye."

Lance mounts his bike once more, and sends a farewell wink to Keith, which makes the latter roll his eyes. Then, he twists the accelerator, and shoots down the road; a coil of warmth settles in his chest as he drives towards the sunset, eager to send that next text that'd say "I'm home".

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, kudos, or contact me via my vld tumblr
> 
> (This series is basically just a collection of drabbles centered around Klance in this universe! Lmk if you'd like a part 3.)


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